


Softness, deadlier than knives

by Umi_no_arawashi



Series: Being normal is overrated, anyway [1]
Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: But Techie knows what he wants, First Time, M/M, Matt develops unexpected feelings, Mention of Hux and Techie being brothers, Modern AU, Porn with Feelings, Rentboy Matt, Techie is shy, Then again who is, Topping from the Bottom, blindfold, bottom Techie, probably-not-entirely-neurotypical Matt, top matt, virgin techie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umi_no_arawashi/pseuds/Umi_no_arawashi
Summary: Matt’s life is simple.He’s bad with people, but good at sex. That’s how he makes enough money to put himself through engineering school.Enter Techie, who is just generally bad at life, but who has decided it was high time he tried this whole sex business once and for all.
Relationships: Clan Techie (Dredd)/Matt the Radar Technician
Series: Being normal is overrated, anyway [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973833
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	Softness, deadlier than knives

Matt’s life is simple.

That’s the way he likes it. He’s never liked complications or ambiguities. He likes things that work.

Like machines.

He’s always liked them. He’s always known that what he wanted to do is be allowed to play with them. And if he wants to spend his life dealing with machines, rather than confusing, changeable _people_ , then the best way to go about it is to acquire an engineering degree. At least that’s what his career counsellor said, and Matt had no reason to doubt the woman’s expertise. Sure, at first, she seemed more than a little puzzled about what to do about Matt and his strange school record, with excellent grades in the few subjects that interested him and abysmal ones in those he didn’t like, and conflicting reports calling him either an antagonistic, sullen student or a dedicated, hard working one (albeit with a laser-like focus that more than one teacher found slightly disturbing,) but in the end her advice was sound.

Also, she did warm up to him considerably after he gave her oral sex as she was sitting on her desk, so there’s that.

So thanks to her, Matt is working towards a degree and intends to specialise, later on, in radars. He just likes the things. They’re simple, yet interesting enough to hold his interest.

Thanks to his sketchy school record, though, he didn’t exactly get a full scholarship. Didn’t get a scholarship at all, in fact. His mother, who seemed vaguely relieved with the prospect of him being in school, content, and importantly, halfway across the country, is paying for a large part of his tuition, but she can’t do much more. And Matt’s father is god knows where, off on some adventure, and certainly doesn’t have a penny to spare for his overgrown, slightly odd son.

Which means Matt has to work.

Now, the problem is that Matt is a) terrible at taking any kind of instruction and b) absolutely awful at interpersonal relationships. That reduces his prospects somewhat drastically.

At the same time, there is one thing, a thing some people might call intensely interpersonal but he approaches more as a rather complicated mechanical problem, that he's absolutely excellent at. 

Sex. Ever since he was old enough to figure out how tab A fit into slot B, so to speak, this is the one thing he’s never had the slightest problem with.

Bodies are easy. It’s the people inside that are difficult.

It helps that he’s very well endowed, as well as built like a brick wall, tall, wide and muscular. It doesn’t seem to matter that his features are too strong, his nose too big, his hair too messy, his ears too large. He has something, a certain quality, that means girls - and boys - somehow seem to find themselves, to their own surprise, in bed with him. Well, not that beds were involved that much, really, in his early sexual experiences. Mostly dark corners in his school, the occasional deserted bathroom, the dugout at the baseball field - anywhere, really, where it was possible to fuck someone senseless against a wall. And they definitely were senseless by the time he’d done his best with them. Satisfied, if a little confused as to how this happened, exactly.

Yet Matt doesn’t remember ever seeking anyone out. It just seemed to be a thing that happened, whenever he was left alone with someone, without him actually having to do much about it.

It never went beyond sex, of course. If there’s one thing Matt doesn’t want, it’s love, or relationships, or a girl/boyfriend, or anything like that. Thankfully, most people tended to feel the same way about him. It’s true there was this one boy, James or Jamie or something, that seemed to cry at Matt a lot for some reason. At the time Matt hadn’t thought a lot of it. After all, if the boy felt like he wanted to cry after sex, Matt didn’t especially mind. But sometimes, now, with the hindsight of a few years, he wonders if perhaps the reason James or Jamie seemed obsessed with whoever else Matt had fucked that week was not because he’d developed, somehow, some sort of feelings.

If that was the case, Matt is glad that boy is now far in the past. Sex is interesting, complex but interesting, but Matt has always found feelings not only confusing but also deeply, deeply boring. He doesn’t like things he doesn’t understand.

But this extraordinary proficiency he has at, not to be crude about it, fucking, has provided him with the ideal solution to his financial problems. For the past two years, Matt has been working as what is called, euphemistically, an escort, although he does very little escorting. He’s very clear about it in the short text that accompanies his (very nude) pictures on the site where he advertises. Pay for his time, and you’ll get any kind of sex you like, satisfaction guaranteed. Don’t ask him for role play or talking or the “boyfriend experience” some other escorts offer. If, on the other hand, what you want is a good fuck, he’ll deliver. He’s thorough, he’s dedicated, he will definitely get you there. Oh, and also, incidentally, he has a nine-inch cock.

It turns out, thankfully for Matt, that there is a fair number of people more than willing to pay for that. He gets a lot of older ladies and gentlemen, as well as a lot of people he imagines most people wouldn’t find conventionally attractive. He doesn’t mind at all. He never really finds people particularly attractive or unattractive. People are people, and sex is sex. He has some regulars, though he’s had to get rid of some of them because after a while they get a tendency to ask him to talk about himself or to try to make him listen to their problems. And that’s not his job.

Today, though, he’s meeting a new client. It’s the sort of appointment he likes best: no expectations on either side, except that he will do his job and do it well. He doesn’t have a name, exactly, the site has that, along with credit card details and all that. All he gets given is what the client wants to be called. Usually, it’s a first name. This time, it seems to be more of a nickname of sorts, “Techie”. It doesn’t make any difference to Matt either way. He was also given an address, of course. And now he’s standing in front of the building in question, he’s a little impressed. It’s a damn nice building. Tall and made out of something like black glass, it’s exactly the kind of thing that appeals to Matt. Smooth, solid, well made. Probably expensive to live in, although Matt is not the best judge of that. People also seem to like paying a lot of money to live in rickety old places that apparently have “character”, whatever that means, and he has no idea why.

He gets in, gives his name (first name, of course) and stares at the security person until they let him through. He goes up, almost all the way up, in fact, in the spacious, sleek elevator. There’s a mirror and Matt makes a vague attempt to tame his messy blonde curls, though that won’t matter very much anyway. No one hires him for his looks, he’s well aware of that.

He gets to the door and knocks. He doesn’t know who he expects to see. Someone older, probably. An apartment in a place like this must cost a lot and young people don’t usually have that kind of wealth. So, someone older, and like the building, formal and a little severe-looking, maybe.

The person who opens the door is the exact opposite of what Matt pictured. He looks young, for one thing. He’s wearing dark, skinny jeans and an oversized tattered yellow t-shirt that hangs over his slight, lanky frame. He has long, messy red hair that falls in soft curls below his shoulders. He’s pale, worryingly so, his lips soft and pink. The skin around his eyes is red, as though he’s been rubbing them. His eyes are blue, the bluest eyes Matt has ever seen. It’s almost as though they’re shining.

For a second, Matt just stares, then he remembers what he’s here for and clears his throat. “Hi. I’m Matt,” he says gruffly.

The redhead looks down at his own hands, pulling nervously at the frayed edges of the sleeves of his shirt. “H-hi,” he stammers. “I’m Techie?”

It sounds like a question, as though he’s not even sure of that. Then he moves away from the door, to let Matt in.

“Nice place,” says Matt for something to say. He’s always been told it was nice to compliment someone’s house. Besides, it is nice. White, huge, massive living room leading to huge floor to ceiling windows that have a view of the whole city.

The strange man is biting at his thumb nervously. “Uh. Yes. I don’t… really go in that part of the apartment. It’s… a bit big.” His large, incredibly blue eyes are darting around, avoiding Matt’s. “My room is this way?” he adds, with an uncertain lilt to his voice, as though Matt was supposed to have an opinion about that.

“You live with a roommate?” asks Matt. It’s not that he wants to make conversation, but this a question he’s learned to ask. If there’s someone else in the place, it’s best if he knows, because some people don’t take well to finding a naked Matt wandering their place, and Matt doesn’t like getting dressed right after sex if he can help it.

“Ah. Uh, no. Technically this is all mine, I guess. I mean, it belongs to me. My brother gave it to me. But it’s all…” He waves at the living room in a vague, aimless gesture. “It’s all very big and open. I don’t… I mean, I’m not very… But, I guess, if you prefer…” 

“I don’t prefer anything,” shrugs Matt. “It’s up to you. Everything is up to you.”

“Okay. So, uh. This way?” Techie points to a corridor and starts going in that direction, looking over his shoulder at Matt as though he’s not sure he’s following. But Matt is following, hands in his pocket, shoulders hunched forward, the way he does.

Techie pushes a door open, and despite the fact he usually doesn’t care about these things, Matt raises an eyebrow. It’s not that the room is messy, it’s just that it’s so _full_ , as though someone tried to cram all they needed to live in the tiniest possible space. There’s a bed, yes, but there’s also a massive desk half hidden under a jumble of computers that seem to grow vaguely organically one on top of each other, a mass of cables and screens and keyboards and printouts. There’s a low table with an electric kettle and a pile of instant ramen cups, some eaten, some not, and at least a dozen mugs in various stages of use: from mostly clean to half-full of some kind of indistinguishable liquid, some a little crusted-over. There’s a particularly forlorn one on the ground near the leg of the table that’s fuzzy with some sort of odd green growth. There are piles of books, all of whom seem to deal either with computers or with mathematics, that rise from the floor in random places like tiny skyscrapers, or rather like stalagmites, since you’d expect skyscrapers to have more structural integrity, if not regularity of shape.

And everywhere, there are odd little _things_ made out of what looks like copper wire. Some look like animals, some look like plants, and some are just shapes that don’t seem to represent much in particular.

All in all, it’s a weird place, but it fits with this pale, lanky, nervous man fidgeting with his worn-down sleeves as though he was scared of his own shadow.

“You like computers?” asks Matt abruptly. He’s bad at small talk, but he feels like he has to say something to reassure Techie or this is never going to get anywhere.

Techie nods. “Yes?” he says nervously, as though expecting Matt to find some fault with that.

“That’s nice. I like radar systems. Radio waves are cool. So, what do you want to do?”

Techie blinks. “What?... w-with computers?”

“No. About the sex. What do you want to do?” Matt asks patiently. He’s had shy clients before, although this one seems particularly bad.

Techie looks at him, eyes wide and blue, and blushes, patches of red blossoming on his white skin. “Uh. Yes. That. I…”

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t do my job,” says Matt logically.

“I… I… it’s not that...,” stammers Techie. “It’s just that I haven’t really, before, so…”

“Haven’t done what before? Called an escort? Had sex with a man? Had sex at all? It’s all cool. I don’t mind. It’s better if I know, though. Makes it simpler.”

“Uh. Haven’t… At all?”

“Ok,” nods Matt. “That’s fine. Do you know what kind of stuff you’d like to do?”

“Yes.” Techie closes his eyes tightly for a second before opening them again. “Uh, I’d want you to… I mean, if it’s okay. Uh. Fuck me?”

Matt nods thoughtfully. “That’s okay, of course, but… It might be a lot. If you’ve never done that before.”

“Ah. Yes, b-but… I mean, I’ve never done it with another person, but… I have. You know. Toys.”

“What kind of toys? Like plugs, dildoes, that kind of stuff?”

“Uh. Y-Yes.” Techie is looking nervously everywhere except at Matt. “But.. I’ve researched it. Online, I mean. How… you know. To clean yourself before and all that. I did all that.”

“Okay, but… Your toys, are they big?”

“What?”

“‘Cause I’m big,” he says matter-of-factly. He’s not bragging, it’s just a practical issue. His cock is long, and it’s thick. He’s confident in his ability to open anyone up enough to take him, but if it’s the guy’s first time, it’ll take ages, and it might be simpler to do something else.

“Yes. I know. It… it says so. O-on the site,” Techie stammers, but there’s a kind of determination in his eyes.” I-I know what I want.”

“Fine,” shrugs Matt. In one movement, he pulls off his sweater and shirt. “So what do you want?”

For a few seconds Techie doesn’t say anything, just stares at Matt’s chest. Admittedly, it is pretty good. Matt works out a lot. He’s also been told he has a tendency to get very naked very quickly, but that’s just how he is. Like he knows some of his colleagues will always insist on showering with the client before doing anything, but he doesn’t. Sex is messy sometimes. It’s just the way of things. He’s not fussy.

Techie swallows and his eyes seem to focus, finally. “I want you to lie down. On your back.” His tone is a bit more assured. Matt guesses this is something he’s thought about. “And I want to… You know. Be on top?” He makes a hesitant little gesture with his hands, one on top of the over. It’s cute.

“Sure,” says Matt agreeably. “We can do that. With a condom, though. I don’t do bareback. What do you want in terms of foreplay?”

Techie looks a bit uncertain, so Matt continues, counting off the options on his fingers. “I can suck you off for a while. I can rim you. I can finger you. I can…”

“No!” says Techie, a little forcefully, then he winces as though his reaction surprised himself. “None… none of that. I don’t need any… uh, p-preparation. I took care of all that, like I said. Just… the actual sex. That’s what I want.”

“All the rest is sex too.”

“Yes, but…” Techie’s fists are clenched at his sides now. “I just want to know how this one thing feels, all right? Just one thing. All the rest… all that just sounds so… so complicated. I just want to know how it feels, if it’s different from.. you know, doing it on my own? And that’s it.”

“Sure, you decide. On your bed?”

“Yes?”

Matt looks at the bed critically. “You should put your clothes somewhere else, then, or they’ll get messed up.”

Somehow, Techie manages to look even more flustered at that, which Matt didn’t think was possible. He starts to pick up the piles of laundry (it’s all very clearly fresh from the dryer) a little ineffectively. For each thing he picks up, it seems he drops something else. Finally, he manages to clear most of the bed. It turns out to be be quite big and to look rather nice, once all the mess is gone.

Matt sits down and pulls off his pants. He’s very efficient. He’s perfected the art of taking off pants, underwear, socks in one go. He’s not really the kind to draw it out, tease his partner. He likes things to go straight to the chase. He always finds it vaguely annoying when people want to be the ones to undress him, for instance. It takes ages for no reason. Besides, given the fact Techie hasn’t removed a single article of clothing yet and is still just staring at him, the bundle of clothes he picked up from the bed held protectively in front of him, it’s probably best if Matt moves this along on his end. 

He takes off his glasses and places them, carefully, on the bedside table. He doesn’t need them that much, really, his eyesight is very close to perfect, but it bothers him to think it’s not. Makes him feel a little vulnerable.

“Okay, so you want me on my back?” he asks for confirmation before lying down on the surprisingly nice-smelling bed. Between his legs, his cock is getting hard. He knows some people have to “get in the mood” or whatever, but for him it’s always been like that. He basically gets hard anytime he wants to get hard.

Techie’s eyes get somehow even larger as he stares at Matt’s hardening erection, and his mouth opens and closes a few times, as though he’s trying to say something but can’t. Then finally he manages to find his voice. “D-do you think you could… maybe close your eyes?” he asks pleadingly.

“Sure,” says Matt, nodding. “Actually, I don’t mind wearing a blindfold, if you want.”

Some people in Matt’s line of work don’t like to wear blindfolds. They think it makes them too vulnerable. Matt doesn’t care. He’s stronger than most people, and figures he could probably stop them if they tried to hurt him with a knife or something. He won’t let himself be tied up, he’s not _stupid_. Besides, he doesn’t see the point. People pay him for his skill, what’s the point of reducing his range of movement? It’s just impractical, if you ask him.

Techie swallows hard. “You… you wouldn’t mind?... but…”

Matt just waits. It seems simpler to just let the man finish his thoughts. Hurrying him along merely makes him even more flustered.

“I-I don’t have, uh, anything that…”

“Can you give me one of your shirts? The long-sleeved ones.”

Techie wordlessly hands him a shirt from the pile he picked up, the same kind he’s wearing, yellow and long-sleeved. He seems to have several copies of it. Matt sits up effortlessly - he’s got pretty good abs -, takes the shirt, expertly folds the body over itself, making a kind of roll, with the arms hanging out. It’s not the safest kind of blindfold, cloth can be a bitch to untie, but he doesn’t intend to do anything more than a single simple knot. He puts the rolled-up part against his eyes, and ties the arms behind his head, not too tight. 

“There,” he says, with finality, and lies back down.

“T-Thank you,” he hears Techie whisper. Then there’s a soft rustling, Techie putting down what he’s carrying somewhere, probably, then the slow sounds of clothes being removed. Techie’s breathing sounds very loud in the room.

Footsteps, then the mattress shifts as Techie crawls onto it, softly. He doesn’t say a word. Matt figures it’s probably best to let him do his thing, and doesn’t say anything either. He just hopes the man has enough of a grip on the technicalities of it to be trusted.

“Can I just touch you, first?” whispers Techie, and he sounds very close, all of a sudden. All of this feels strangely intimate.

“Yes,” says Matt with a nod. He feels the mattress shift again, a weight move over him until it’s clear Techie is kneeling over him, one leg on each side of Matt’s. Despite himself, Matt shivers. Techie is not a small man, even though he’s hunched-over, and it’s one of the few things Matt does find attractive in people. He likes them tall. He’s always vaguely worried, with small people, that he’ll hurt them. He can almost feel Techie’s eyes on him, and he feels himself getting harder.

Then a finger touches his stomach, soft as silk, slightly cold. He remembers Techie’s pale hands, with their bitten-down nails, remember thinking they looked soft. 

Very gently, Techie traces the hard ridges of Matt’s abs with his fingertips. It should tickle, but it doesn’t. It feels deadly serious. Above him, Techie’s breathing is a little laboured, a little strained. 

A second hand joins the first, stroking Matt’s skin like Techie is trying to learn each detail of its texture, or like a blind person reading Braille. Then those delicate fingers move down, following the trail of dark blonde hair that grows from his navel to his groin. They tangle in the nest of curls at the base of his cock, gently, not pulling (Matt hates that), one hand on each side of his shaft, avoiding it for now. Then they move lower, to his balls, and one of those soft hands cups them gently, as though feeling their weight, and it feels _nice_ and Matt shivers a little. Then the fingers are on his thighs, stroking the soft hair that grows there, and Matt almost huffs in frustration before reminding himself that none of this is for him, this is all for Techie, and if he wants to spend his time with Matt stroking his skin, he can.

He paid for Matt’s time, after all. That isn’t cheap.

Techie’s weight shifts again, subtly, then suddenly Matt yelps, a small strangled sound, at the feeling of a soft, wet tongue just touching the head of his cock. He certainly wasn’t expecting that.

He feels Techie pull back. “Sh-should I not have done that?” he asks in an anxious whisper.

Matt swallows. His throat feels a little dry. “Uh. No. I mean yes, of course you can do that. If you want. You can do whatever you want.” That’s not true, and that’s not what Matt usually tells clients. He has a list of things he won’t do, because he doesn’t see the point of them or because they require too much time or too much cleanup or he gets bored, but it’s all on the site. And he doesn’t think Techie would be interested in any of that, anyway.

Techie moves closer again, and that tongue is back on his cock, licking at it in small, hesitant, cat-like strokes. It’s a strange, shivery kind of feeling, yet something about it is interesting and Matt feels himself harden even more, feels a drop of precum form at the top of the head of his cock, and Techie just laps in up in one fast flick of his tongue and Matt has to bite back a moan. Then there are lips on his cock, like Techie is just kissing him, at first, but then they part and Techie takes him in his mouth, slowly, just the head, but it feels sweet and delicate, his teeth carefully out of the way, his soft tongue curling around Matt in just the right way, and this time Matt does moan out loud.

Techie pulls back again. “D-did I do that wrong?” he asks nervously.

Matt shakes his head, trying to find his voice. “No. No, that was… that was very nice.”

“Oh. I… I practiced, but… I don’t know if it’s the same…?”

“You practiced on toys?”

“Uh. Y-yes? And…” He pauses, as though uncertain. “And on myself, a bit?”

Despite himself, Matt is a little impressed. “You can do that?”

“I… well, not… all of it? Just the top. I’m bendy, but…”

“That’s a neat trick. Has anyone ever done it to you?”

Matt can actually hear Techie shake his head, soft long hair rustling over his shoulders. “No.”

“I can, if you want?”

“No.” Techie sounds very sure about that. It seems that he doesn’t want Matt to do anything _to_ him. “No, I don’t really want that. I just… want to do it to you a bit? If you don’t mind.”

Matt huffs once in amusement, but tries to hide his smile. He thinks Techie would probably take it the wrong way. “No, of course I don’t. It’s very… nice,” he says, even though that is a massive understatement. Techie’s shy, tentative mouth around him felt unexpectedly lovely.

Techie lets out a determined breath and gets back to it, a little more confident, this time. He runs his mouth along the underside of Matt’s cock, his tongue snaking around the large vein there. What makes it so unusual is that it doesn’t feel as though he’s trying to get any reaction from Matt, really, doesn’t feel like he’s trying to make him come. It feels like Techie just wants to feel Matt’s cock with his mouth, like it’s something he’s wanted for a long time and finally gets to do, and that’s very sweet. Matt actually finds himself on the receiving end of a lot of blowjobs, not all of them very good, but usually people want him to react a certain way, want to know they’re having an effect on him, and that gets a little complicated for Matt, who finds it easier to deal with physical needs than emotional ones. But Techie seems perfectly content just doing this, judging by the small satisfied sounds he’s making.

And it’s surprisingly effective. A bit too effective, really, if Techie wants to do other things after. It’s not that Techie has excellent technique, it’s the reverse. He’s hesitant and unpredictable. It’s hard to guess what he’ll do next, one lick here, one press of his lips there, and it has interesting effects on Matt.

“Umm..” he clears his throat, fighting the heat rising in his lower belly. “Could you… just stop for a minute?”

Techie pulls back. “Oh. Do you not like it?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s cringing a bit.

“No.” Matt shakes his head. “The opposite. It’s a little _too_ nice. If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to do what you wanted. Not for a little while, anyway.”

“Oh?” breathes Techie. “R-really?” He sounds a little pleased with himself and Matt sort of wants to smile. “Okay. Sorry, I just wanted to try that…”

“It’s okay. So? Did you like it?”

Techie lets out a small giggle. “Yes,” he says. “It’s fun.” Suddenly Matt feels sorry he’s wearing a blindfold. He would have liked to see what Techie looks like when he’s smiling.

“So, do you still want me to fuck you?” Matt asks, trying to get back to sounding professional. It’s not very like him to be so scatterbrained. He shouldn’t be wasting his time and his client’s money wondering whether Techie’s blue eyes light up when he smiles, whether his soft-looking cheeks have any cute dimples in them (for some reason, he thinks they do.)

“Yes, please,” says Techie.

“Okay. Can you get my condoms from my jeans, then?” He didn’t really plan this through very well. Normally he should have laid out everything he needed somewhere he could easy reach. But he got distracted staring at the strange redhead with the startling blue eyes. 

“Uh. Okay,” says Techie, and he moves on the bed. There’s a rustling sound. “Do you want me to, uh, take some of your lube too? I have mine, but…”

Lube. Yes. Matt actually managed to forget about that. He’s an absolute disgrace to his profession, that’s what he is. “Is it water based, or silicone?”

“Oh, water. All of my toys are silicone, so…”

“Then let’s just use yours,” he says, hoping he sounds as though all this was all cleverly thought out.

Techie settles back on the bed and presses Matt’s strip of condoms into his outstretched hand. “There. I’ll go get, uh, the lube?”

With practiced fingers, Matt tears off a condom, opens it and rolls it over himself. He doesn’t need to look to know how to do that, at least. Then Techie hands him a tube of lube, some brand that feels very familiar from the packaging (Matt has become sort of an expert on the subject, he’s probably tried every kind known to man.) He coats himself liberally with it, then reaches towards where he can sense Techie is, so he can make sure he is as prepared as he said he was, and to lube him up. But Techie moves away, evades him, just out of his reach.

“Uh. C-can you not… I mean, if it’s… because of the lube and all that, I’ll do it. But can you… kind of keep your hands, uh, away?”

“What, really?”

“If you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Matt. He almost offers to let Techie tie his hands up before remembering all the reasons why it would be a terrible idea. Instead, he raises his arms above his head, catching his left wrist with his right hand. “Like this?”

Techie lets out a relieved breath. “Yes. Thank you. That’s… that’s perfect, actually.”

There are soft sounds, lube being poured out, the whisper of Techie’s skin against the sheets as he moves slightly. Matt wonders what he looks like, naked, his hand reaching between his parted legs. Wonders what his cock looks like, if it’s as pale and pretty as the rest of him, if it’s hard right now, if it blushes as red as his cheeks do.

Then Matt doesn’t wonder anymore, doesn’t think at all anymore, in fact, because Techie is crawling over him again, positioning himself so his hole is right at the tip of Matt’s cock, and despite the condom, Matt can feel him, soft puckered skin, slick and warm, and it takes all his self-control not to grab Techie by the hips and hold him as he thrusts up into that waiting heat.

But he manages. And instead, Techie’s soft hand grabs the base of his cock and holds him steady as he impales himself slowly on Matt’s cock, as though it were one of his toys. Their breaths are very loud in this small place.

Matt bites his lips. Techie is right around him, tight and warm, and it’s sweeter than any time he’s done this, and he doesn’t know why. Perhaps it’s how slow and careful Techie is being. Perhaps it’s the whole situation. Anyway, it’s not something that’s happened before.

Then Techie is all the way down, taking him right to the hilt, which to be honest is a little impressive, and his plush, soft ass, with barely the slightest hint of peach fuzz, is flush against Matt’s thighs, and he feels Techie arch his back a bit, his weight shifting as he tries to get used to Matt’s girth. “Oh,” he says, a small, slightly shocked whisper.

Matt’s nails are digging into his own flesh with the effort of staying still. Techie feels wonderful around him, and all he wants to do is grab him and thrust up with all his strength, but he can’t. Techie asked him not to. So instead, he tilts his head back, tries to distract himself by breathing as slowly as he possibly can.

Then Techie starts moving.

It’s slow at first, slow and uncertain, but Techie finds a rhythm that suits him after a little while, a slow deep grind that has Matt seeing stars under the blindfold. Techie’s leaning forward now, hands on the bed on each side of Matt’s chest, his breath hot on Matt’s skin, and yet he’s just out of touch, and Matt wants more, so much more.

Finally he can’t stand it anymore. “Please,” he says, his normally deep voice a little squeaky with strain. “Please, let me…”

Techie stops moving. Matt can almost _hear_ him tilt his head to the side in confusion. “What?” he asks.

“Please… Techie, please,” Matt babbles a little incoherently. This is the least professional thing he’s ever done. He’s not supposed to be the one asking for favours.

“W-what do you want?” asks Techie. But he doesn’t sound upset, just curious.

Matt lets go of his own wrist and his hands fall to his side, hovering above Techie’s skin - or rather, where he sort of feels Techie is. “Can I hold you?” he asks. “You can say no.” If Techie says no, Matt may very well burst out crying in frustration and need, but Techie doesn’t have to know that.

“Oh. If you want?” says Techie, not sounding perfectly sure. “But… not too tight?”

“Sure.” Matt nods. “Sure.” His hands close on Techie’s skin, warm and slightly sweaty, squishy under his fingertips. He holds on to Techie like he’s holding on to a precious, breakable thing, something he could crush if he’s not careful. “I’m… going to move, now,” he says, giving up any pretence that he’s just trying to do his job. This was specifically not what he was asked to do. What he was asked _not_ to do, in fact. “Just… tell me to stop if you want me to stop?”

He really, really hopes Techie won’t ask him to stop.

Slowly, he rolls his hips, thrusting up into Techie as carefully as he can. He feels Techie tense all around him, then relax as he gets used to the sensation.

“Okay?” asks Matt, his voice a little strained.

“Okay,” says Techie, and actually, he does sound okay. “I… like that.”

“Oh. Good,” says Matt, and he starts moving in earnest. That’s the thing he’s supposed to be really good at. He apparently has a way of finding the right angle, the right rhythm for whoever he’s with. But right now, he’s not even thinking, just chasing that wonderful feeling, and it actually takes him an effort to let go of Techie’s lovely soft, pliant body with one hand and reach for his erection.

But when he closes his hand around Techie’s cock, hard and leaking and soft like velvet, he’s glad he did. Techie fits perfectly in his hand, not big, but not exactly small, either. He gives Techie a gentle experimental tug, and he’s rewarded by a small surprised huff.

“Alright?” he asks.

Techie lets out a small, breathy giggle, and it’s one of the sweetest sounds Matt has ever heard. “Yes… that’s really nice.”

Matt grins to himself and concentrates on what he’s doing - short, hard thrusts into Techie, in time with his hand on Techie’s cock, not too hard, not too fast. He can hear Techie’s breathing speed up, can feel his cock start to drip precum over his hand. Matt feels like if he tried hard enough he could hear Techie’s heartbeat.

Then suddenly, without warning, Matt feels Techie tense, curl up, and he makes a surprised breathless sound, as though someone just punched him in the gut, and Matt feels Techie’s cock pulse in his hand as he spills all over his fingers, warm and perfect. 

Matt doesn’t even take the time to wipe his hand. He just grabs Techie again, pulls him down to him until they’re lying skin to skin, chest to chest, Matt’s face buried in the crook of Techie’s neck, soft, sweet smelling hair all around, and he just holds Techie to him as he thrusts into him, chasing his own pleasure, until the world explodes, white light behind his closed eyelids, and he stops, panting, small aftershocks coursing through him, his mouth on Techie’s skin.

“Uh,” Matt says in Techie’s hair, a little out of breath. “Sorry. That wasn’t what you asked for.” His arms are still around Techie’s naked frame, holding him close.

“It’s fine,” says Techie,”I liked it,” and he giggles again. Matt pulls back a little, pulls off the blindfold, so that this time, he can see what that looks like. 

He’s glad he did. Techie does have little dimples in his cheeks, just as he thought. And a little blush, just on the apple of his cheeks, pink, rather than the red that was there when he was embarrassed. The skin near his eyes crinkle a little with laughter. They’re even bluer, up close. Matt suddenly has a burning desire to kiss Techie’s soft cheeks, his pouty pink lips. But there are limits to how unprofessional he can get.

Techie sighs a little happy smile and lays his head down on Matt. Matt feels his erection soften, knows soon he should slip out of Techie or the condom might fall off and it’ll get messy, but he likes just being there, inside Techie, feeling his heartbeat all around.

“I didn’t think I’d like that,” whispers Techie, his lips so close to Matt’s skin that Matt can feel them moving. “Being… held, I mean. The way you did. I don’t like it, usually, when people touch me. But it felt… I don’t know, safe?”

“Oh,” rumbles Matt. He doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not at all ready to talk about how holding Techie made him feel. He’s not even sure he _knows_ how holding Techie made him feel, exactly. He clears his throat. “I should clean myself,” he says, trying to get vaguely back on his usual tracks.

“Oh. Yes. Of course,” said Techie, and is it Matt’s imagination, or does he sound just a little disappointed? He pulls away, pulls himself off Matt, quickly slips his long t-shirt back on, while Matt gets on with all the mechanical business of getting the condom off and safely tied. 

“Uh. My bathroom’s a bit messy,” says Techie, standing up. The t-shirt goes down to his thighs, hiding all that pretty softness away, and something within Matt mourns. “But you can have the other one. There’s two. It’s got Armie’s stuff in it, sometimes he uses it when he stays over…”

Who’s Armie, Matt wants to ask. Who’s Armie, and why is he allowed to stay over? What else is Armie allowed to do? The feeling is so new to Matt that it takes him a while to realise that, absurdly, he’s jealous.

It strikes him just as he’s showering in “Armie’s” pristine glass shower, in “Armie’s” handsome black-and-white tiled bathroom (Matt’s, in his crappy little rental, has shitty plaster walls with sickly green paint, probably not meant to be waterproof judging by its tendency to randomly peel off.) Showering, moreover, with Armie’s expensive, incense-and-musk scented products (Matt takes an instant dislike to the smell.) 

He’s violently jealous of this Armie and the fact he has a right to Techie and Matt has none. Even of what Techie said was true, and no one ever did that to him before Matt, in a few minutes Matt will be out of Techie’s life, probably forever, and Armie has a fucking shelf with his fucking toothbrush on it in Techie’s appartement.

As a result, Matt is in a foul mood when he leaves the bathroom, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. But then he notices Techie is standing there, in the corridor, as though he’d been waiting for Matt. He’s all dressed and sweet-smelling, his hair a little wet, dark red instead of copper. He’s fiddling with something in his hands.

“I-I guess you’ll be going now?” he asks, his voice back to shy now.

“Yes,” says Matt, gruffly.

“Okay. I just… wanted to say thanks. Oh, and…” he holds out his hand, handing something to Matt, one of his small copper sculptures. “This is for you.”

Matt takes it and looks at it dumbly. It’s a little fox, with pointy ears and a big fluffy tail made of a spiral of wire. “Thank you,” he hears himself say.

Then Techie suddenly leans forward, like a little animal darting out of a hole, and gives him a small peck on the cheek, so brief Matt immediately wonders if he didn’t imagine it. “Goodbye,” Techie says, and he’s blushing a little.

Matt doesn’t manage to find his voice in time. He just gives a little awkward wave, like some sort of overgrown toddler. Then Techie opens the door and Matt is outside, making a beeline for the elevator doors, very consciously not looking back at Techie’s door, even after he hears it close.

It’s only once he’s standing in the street, blinking at the sun, hand carefully curled around the little copper figure so he doesn’t accidentally damage it, that he realises he’s forgotten his glasses.

In Armie’s bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> uminoarawashi at tumblr.com if you want to chat. I don’t post anything specific, but I’m very open to fic recs or random fandom related musings!
> 
> I also love chatting randomly in the comments, so if you feel like leaving one, don’t hesitate!!


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